


The Memories Remain

by The_White_Rabbit42



Series: Home for the Holidays [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 13:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: You receive a reminder that the past hasn’t always been unpleasant, leading you to be more reluctant about sharing the parts that have been.





	The Memories Remain

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies. I got behind on posting here. Now you get as many as I can throw in your face before falling asleep at my keyboard.
> 
> This chapter also contained the prompts: “You’re cute when you’re freezing.” / Blanket

The first snow of the season was always your favorite.  

 

It had been a long time since you’d been anywhere you could see it, and a warm, nostalgic feeling washed over you when you’d woken up to find the first flutter of snowflakes circling the yard.  You’d crept quietly out of bed, not wanting to wake Gabriel, but not before tucking your blanket around him to protect against the dampness in the air that swept in with the storm.  

 

You’d stopped in the kitchen long enough to fill a thermos full of your special hot chocolate before bundling up and heading outside.  The sky was blanketed with clouds, but the grey that replaced blue was distinct, far different than the dreariness that often accompanied rain.  Like before, it tickled at memories, causing them to shake back to life.  As the dust lifted from their surface, the images that danced across your vision lit embers in your chest you had long thought burned out.

 

You don’t know how long you sat on the porch, watching the world turn white beneath the falling flakes, as you slowly swayed back and forth on the porch swing.  You had helped your friends build it late in the spring, just before you left, the recollection making you realize how much you missed them.  

 

_“You’ll always have a safe place to return to, even if we’re no longer here.”_

 

You pulled off your glove, your fingers absentmindedly running beneath the armrest.  The intricate indentations in the wood brought you comfort.  Despite how exposed you were, you might have been sitting in the safest spot on the entire property with how many protective wards had been carved into the boards.  

 

Your mind drifted back to a simpler time when you hadn’t had to worry about hunting or being hunted, and you became so lost in those thoughts it wasn’t until he spoke that you realized Gabriel was even there.  

 

“What’s that look for?”

 

You glanced up to find him watching you curiously, his face unreadable.  The circles beneath his eyes were still there, but ever since you (secretly) started offering him comfort, they had been improving.  Sleep clung to his features, and you realized he must have come straight down after waking.  

 

You patted the seat beside you, waiting for him to sit before you handed him your mug to hold.  He did without question, his eyes continuing to linger as you reached down between your legs for the thermos and the extra cup you’d brought.

 

“Did you know I used to live up here somewhere?”  You asked as you poured him a drink.  “Not _here_ here, but somewhere in New England, where there were just as many trees and mountains.”  

 

You handed him the mug full of steaming liquid in exchange for your own, which you topped off.  

 

“You don’t remember much about it?”  

 

_Late night laughter bubbled up from beneath your window sill.  Stolen moments in fresh fallen snow punctuated by dramatic dips and twirls as a couple swayed within each other’s arms._

 

_…_

 

_Tiny footprints trailing behind much larger ones.  Fumbling feet that tried to keep up and a set of warm and gentle hands that kept catching you before you hit the ground, guiding you back up so you could keep going._

 

_…_

 

_The smell of peppermint washed over you as you were rocked back in forth in front of a crackling fire, the soft, off-key tones of a deep voice lulling you to sleep._

 

_..._

 

_“Mama, Mama, Look!” Excitement had your small voice carrying clear across the yard as you waved your arms.  “Look what I made for Tony!”_

 

_You stepped aside to reveal the small, misshapen snowman you and your father had built._

 

_Your mother smiled as she helped your brother walk unsteadily over to you.  “It’s wonderful!  Look what your sister made, Tony.”_

 

_Tiny hands reached up, fingers flexing beneath their mittens.  He moved forward, body wavering before he pitched forward, wrapping his arms around the creation._

 

_“No, silly, you’re not supposed to hug it,” you giggled, helping him stand up again._

 

A soft smile touched your features.  “I remember enough.”  

 

You closed your eyes, letting the serenity of the morning chase away the bittersweetness that swept in on the wake of your thoughts.  A slight breeze picked up, but beyond the momentary chill that kissed your cheeks and the slight rustling of your hair, you wouldn’t have even noticed.  

 

“Listen to that.”  Your eyes re-opening as you glanced over at him.  

 

His brows pulled together as he tried to pick up on whatever it was you were referencing.  “... I don’t hear anything.”  

 

“Exactly,” you smile widened.  

 

Over the years, silence had become an entity all its own.  Learning to read the subtle, varying degrees to which it existed had sharpened your instincts and helped you survive.  Anywhere else, this would have been _too_ quiet, and you had forgotten how much peace could be found in the absence of all sound.  

 

Gabriel brought his mug up toward his face, inhaling, his brows nearly hitting his hairline when he caught on to the special ingredient you’d added.  “Are you drunk?”  


You laughed, the sound unexpected and almost sharp in contrast to the quietness.  “It’ll take more than a thermos of this stuff to do the job.”

 

“Ok, but seriously, hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps… for _breakfast_?”  He said.  “Why?”

 

What he really meant was _what’s wrong_ by the way he began to look you over.  

 

You raised a brow.  “Why not?”

 

He was the last person you’d expect to be questioning decadence at any hour, especially when it involved chocolate.  

 

He looked down at his cup, giving a half-shrug before diving into it.  The large swallow he took drew forth a low, appreciative sound.  “This is good.”

 

The wood creaked as he leaned back, his arm stretching out along the top of the backrest.  Restless fingers began to drum just over your shoulder.  You in turn leaned forward, your elbows resting on your knees as your hands wrapped around your mug, soaking in the warmth of the ceramic.  His foot began to rock, the swing beginning to sway in tandem.  

 

“Have you spent a lot of time up here?”

 

A different set of memories flared beneath your skin, bringing with it those bitter barbs that burned so far down it had eaten its way into bone.  You unconsciously rolled your shoulder, loosening some of the stiffness that seemed to transfer to the rest of your body.

 

“More than I imagined.”  

 

Gold grew more intent, catching something beneath your words.  

 

“So, how long should we keep dancing?”  He asked.

 

_“You’ve been_ _alive how long now, and you still haven’t found a better use for your mouth?”  You demanded.  You pretended to be tired of hearing him run it all night while you and your brother looked for ways to stop_ ** _his_** _family._

 

_You’d never admit how much you enjoyed his company, obnoxious rambling and all._

 

_“Believe me, there are plenty of other things I’d rather be doing with it right now.”  His brows danced playfully as you glanced up, doing your best to give him a baleful look.  Your lips twitched in betrayal and his curled up further in triumph._

 

_“I don’t believe my brother is interested, but you’re welcome to keep trying,” you told him dryly._

 

_“I’ve got standards you know,” he huffed, pretending to be offended.  “For starters, the kid’s way too young for me.”_

 

_Your brow rose sharply.  “You know he’s only two years younger than me, right?  Physically.  Emotionally, two is debatable.  Might be closer to ten.”_

 

_“Feel free to keep talking like I’m not even here,” your brother snarked, though the fact he didn’t bother to look up from his book suggested he was already over it._

 

_Gabriel snapped, conjuring up an expensive and highly effective set of headphones.  It wasn’t connected to anything but must have magically been set to Tony’s music of choice by the way he threw a thumbs up at the archangel._

 

_“I imagine any human would constitute robbing the cradle at this point in your existence,” you baited, idly flipping the page as you moved on to a section about archangels and their wings._

 

_Gold resettled on you, mischief sparking bright._

 

_“Some of you are wise beyond your years… as are your mouths.”  You blinked and suddenly he was lounging provocatively on the bed alongside you.  “I could also think of some better things_ **_you_ ** _could be doing with yours.”  The look he gave you bordered on outright lascivious and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.  As if you’d believe he’d proposition you with your brother sitting right there._

 

_… or actually be interested in someone like you._

 

_“You know what else we could be doing?”  You bit your lip coyly, almost losing it at the way his brow immediately shot up.  A smug smile stretched across his features and you could only imagine what would happen when you blinked this time.  As expected, he moved, this time next to you, his arm draped across the headboard you were leaning against._

 

_He was good, you would give him that, closing in just enough to be convincing, but not actually leaning close enough for it to mean anything._

 

_“I’m all ears, sugar plum.”_

 

_You turned your head, drifting close enough for your noses to almost touch, and a conspiratorial hush overtook your tone.  “Something about your brother being out of his cage.”_

 

_He didn’t hesitate to roll_ **_his_ ** _eyes at you, his entire head following the movement._

 

_“With how often you bring him up, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe you don’t have a thing for him,” he teased._

 

_“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if someone would just throw us a bone,” your tone losing some of its playfulness as you gave him a serious look._

 

_“Believe me,_ **_I’m trying_ ** _.”  When he turned back toward you, this time your noses did touch and you felt your pulse explode in your veins.  His eyes dipped down to where your lips unconsciously parted before flicking back up to meet your gaze._

 

_You smiled sweetly at him, hoping it might hide your initial response.  “If you’re that desperate, Gabe, go fuck_ **_yourself_ ** _.  Some of us have a world to save.”_

 

_Your words held no judgement.  You understood his dilemma and never once had you pressured him like the Winchesters had.  You didn’t expect him to come riding in on some white steed to slay his brother and save the day.  You simply wanted a clue as to what you should be looking for._

 

_You tossed your book down the bed, crawling after it before re-settling onto your stomach.  It was always a flip of the coin whether he’d take the hint and move on or if he’d keep after you.  Tonight, he was particularly persistent.  He flopped down beside you, head propped up on an elbow._

 

_“I’d much rather stay and dance,” he ran his finger sensually along the top of the page.  “I got all the time in the_ _world for a partner like you.”_

 

You tilted your head to the side, a smile playing at your lips.  “Thought you had all the time in the world?”   

 

If you were honest, you’d done so much dancing, with him and others, you weren’t sure you knew how to stop.  

 

You weren’t sure what to make of the puff of air he let out through his nose until you caught the slightest twitch of his lips.  “How long did I stay that night?”

 

_Not long enough_ you thought as you remembered falling asleep with him next to you, only to wake up the next morning to an empty bed and his lingering presence.  

 

You shrugged.  “Late.  Early.  Depends on how you look at it.”

 

His lips pulled into a half-smile, something warm touching his gaze as he looked down into his drink.  Everything suddenly faded as he gave his mug a swirl.   “We should talk, y/n.”  

 

You had been waiting for him to be ready.  Now that he was, you felt reluctant.  Instinctively you shied away.  Whatever you’d found with him was comfortable and simple.  Talking would change everything again.    

 

“Even the Winchesters know enough to at least ply me with some strong drinks if they’re going to skip the foreplay.”  It was meant to be a dry remark.  You hadn’t meant for the venom to slip into your tone, but the moment their name left your mouth, you felt the poison leeching back into your veins, tainting the calm you had found.  

 

His gaze narrowed, the swing suddenly halting, as did his fingers behind you.  “Did they do something to you?”

 

You contemplated deflecting, but really, what was the point?  He was right.  You needed to speak to each other sometime.

 

“I promise we’ll talk about it, just not right now, ok?”  

 

You were desperately trying to keep hold of the peace you’d found this morning along with the fond remembrance that had accompanied it.  You weren’t sure if some part of that registered in his awareness or if he simply didn’t want to fight you on it.  Either way, he let it go, much to your relief.

 

“Soon,” he insisted, the swing beginning to rock once again.  

 

“Soon,” you agreed.

 

***

 

“So is the plan to stay outside and freeze all day?”  He asked.  You had to admit, he’d lasted longer than you expected without complaining.  Your only measure of time was how much snow had collected, and judging by the few inches that now blanketed the area, you would guess you’d been out there for an hour if not more.  

 

“Just long enough to improve the scenery.”  You caught the odd look he gave you and smiled.   **“You’re cute when you’re freezing.”**

 

You’d never seen him with much color on his face except for those rare moments when he lost his temper.  Even then, it was somehow controlled, just like every other aspect of him.  The red that splashed across his cheeks and over his nose was imperfect, the edges slightly asymmetrical, and the tip of his distinguished profile a deeper shade than the rest.  You weren’t sure what it was about it that drew you in but, like the beginnings of the beard he’d been intermittently scratching, it was undeniably appealing.  

 

“Sweetheart, I am cute, regardless,” he retorted.  “Though I fail to see how turning into a popsicle improves that.”  Despite the wryness beneath his words, there was a plea not-so-subtly surfacing in gold.  Then again, when had he been subtle about anything?

 

“Come on.  Let’s go get something warm to eat.”  You gathered your things and rose, pausing to take one last look at the large, wet flakes that fell so steadily you could no longer see the horizon, let alone anything past the property line.  You could have sat out there for hours, and part of you wished he was more tolerant of the cold so you could.

 

You turned, taking a few steps toward the door when your brows suddenly drew together.  “Wait a minute, didn’t you say you chose a Norseman as your vessel for the sake of authenticity?”

 

He nudged you forward.  “Keep moving, sweet cheeks.  His ass might have been used to the cold but mine certainly isn’t.”

 

***

 

Your first thought when you got inside was to wrap him in a blanket and fill him with more hot chocolate to warm him up.  When you caught the way he shivered, you decided to send him up to the shower instead while you foraged for breakfast.  You knew your options were limited.  You had planned to run to town today for more groceries, but that seemed less likely now.  You’d just have to make do with what you had, and which appeared to be was oatmeal and fruit.  

 

Gabriel was going to be thrilled.  

 

The gas burner gave a familiar click before igniting, and you got everything started before moving on to your second agenda item: caffeine.  You made yourself a cup of coffee and had  just sat down at the table with it when your phone gave a buzz.  You pulled it out to find a text from Sam.

 

_Everything ok?_

 

You almost immediately deleted it, but you realized if they were checking in, they were worried.  If they were actually worried, they probably had information.  

 

_What did you find out?_

 

_Nothing substantial_

_yet._

 

You sighed.  That was Winchester for _nothing we care to share_ . 

 

Idiots.

 

You refrained from telling him to not bother you until they had an _actual_ clue.  They knew how you felt about them, and as much as you hated to admit it, you needed their help.  So long as that help stayed far, far away from Gabriel.  

 

A frown creased your mouth and you could feel your good mood slipping away.  Determined not to let them ruin anything else, you scrolled through your contacts, though as you did a chill ran along your shoulders, dancing its way down your back.  You pulled your arms in tighter, your focus shifting slightly as you entered a different text message.  

 

_You’re spending how_

_much to get all these_

_floors redone but you_

_still haven’t replaced_

_the furnace?_

 

Your friend’s response was almost immediate.  

 

_Thanks for the place_

_to stay, Roxy.  I_

_appreciate your_

_hospitality._

 

You smirked, the Winchesters already fading to the back of your mind.

 

_You know what I’d_

_appreciate more?_

_Being warm._

 

_You know all those_

_fireplaces aren’t just_

_for decoration right?_

 

You took a sip of your coffee, formulating your response when a flurry of separate messages followed.  

 

_There’s also blankets._

 

_Sweaters..._

 

_Body heat._

 

You choked, nearly spitting your drink back out.  It figured her first mention of Gabriel would be _that_.   

 

_Or I could just use all_

_this spare flooring as_

_kindling and light a_

_bonfire in the middle_

_of the foyer._

 

_You’re the one that_

_never shut up about_

_him when drunk._

 

Warmth infused your cheeks.  Maybe it was a good thing that Roxy hadn’t been waiting for you.  You weren’t the only one who was a chatty drunk, though you imagined you’d be catching plenty from her while she was sober as well.

 

Something soft and warm enveloped you, a set of steady hands smoothing it over your shoulders.  “You looked cold,” Gabriel hovered over you, his presence suddenly filling your awareness.  You jumped, your finger swiping at the screen as you hastily tried to get rid of the conversation before he saw it.  

 

It wasn’t until you turned your head that it hit you:  the scent of fresh soap and cleanliness, but something else as well, something that lingered.  That’s when you realized he must have been wearing the blanket he’d given you.  Whatever response had been on your lips fell silent, his thoughtfulness catching you off guard.    

 

“So what’s on the menu this morning?”  He raised his arms above his head, giving a languid stretch.  His shirt rose up, skin peeking out from beneath the hem.   

 

_“Admit it,”  Tony insisted.  “You’ve thought_ _about what’s beneath all those layers he wears...”_

 

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told him, casually folding your clothes as you packed._

 

_“The guys attractive,” he continued.  “I know_ _you’ve noticed that.”_

 

_“That guy is an archangel,” you reminded._

 

_“Doesn’t mean you can’t imagine…”  He fixed you with a knowing look._

 

_“Not that I have thought about it or anything… but with an ego like that?  It’s gotta be all hard planes and perfection,” you smirked._

 

You figured washboard abs would just be part of the package, but there was a light sprinkling of hair that peppered the surprisingly soft contours of his stomach.    Somehow this version was far more appealing, and you felt the heat in your cheeks expand as you wondered just exactly did lay beneath all those clothes.

 

He lowered his arms again, glancing back at you when you didn’t answer.

 

“Oatmeal,” you squeaked, quickly averting your gaze.  He just stared at you a moment and you felt your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason.   _Shit_.  He’d caught you.  

 

His brows pulled together as he looked you over.  “You feeling alright?”

 

He placed the back of his hand against your forehead, and a different warmth seeped into you at his concern.  When his fingers tucked your hair back from your face, his touch began to tingle.  It turned into pure electricity when he unexpectedly cupped your cheek, turning your face up to him for inspection.

 

Your eyes locked with his and you were suddenly very aware of just how _not_ all right you were.  

 

_This is why you don’t start drinking before ten in the morning._

 

“Yeah, chilly?”  While you were pleased your brain managed to string together a reasonable set of words, he seemed less than thrilled with what they were.  

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have sat outside so long…” He frowned.  “Why don’t we get a fire going in the other room and eat in there?  I can bring down an extra blanket.”  Something shifted, his features becoming unreadable.  “And if those two things don’t work there’s always the old-fashioned way.”

 

Oh sweet Chuck, he _had_ seen your phone.  You swallowed, your cheeks in danger of bursting into flames.

 

“... Hot soup?”  He finished, eyeing you more closely.  “You sure you’re ok?”

 

You opened your mouth to answer when everything suddenly went dim.  

 

“That’s… not good,” Gabriel said, his head tilting back to look up at the now dark bulbs overhead.


End file.
